


Kiss Me Once Again

by KaminaDuck



Series: Time After Time [1]
Category: Agent Carter (Marvel Short Film), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Fix-It, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:38:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18843793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaminaDuck/pseuds/KaminaDuck
Summary: Steve stood in front of the house, flowers in hand, and he took a deep breath as he stared at the steps leading up to the porch. This was the proverbial “it”. There was no going back now.All he had to do was walk up the stairs, knock on the door, and when it opened, he would find her. Peggy. The one that he had loved through all time and space.So why was it so hard to put one foot in front of the other?





	Kiss Me Once Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends!
> 
> Thank you so much for checking out my first work in this series. After seeing Avengers: Endgame, I was really upset to find that we didn't get a full explanation of what Steve did at the end. There was a hint, but I wasn't satisfied with the idea of Steve just settling into the simple life with all that he knew would transpire. According to the MCU rules of time travel, changing something in the past creates an alternate timeline of events, and since I'm a big fan of fictional depictions of multiverse theory, I figured the only way I would find out what Steve would do in this other universe is to write it. 
> 
> This is only the beginning; I'm already outlining Part 2! I'll start posting some updates over on Tumblr at @kaminaduck if you'd like to follow along.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta reader, hesterbyrde, for keeping me honest and on-task, and supporting me in this endeavor. <3 
> 
> Title and lyrics are taken from "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Harry James And His Orchestra.
> 
> Please enjoy!

_Never thought that you would be_  
_standing here so close to me_  
_there's so much I feel that I should say_  
_but words can wait until some other day_

Steve stood in front of the house, flowers in hand, and he took a deep breath as he stared at the steps leading up to the porch. This was the proverbial “it”. There was no going back now. He had completed his mission in returning all of the stones to their rightful places in time. He made the decision with his last trip through time to not go back to 2023, but to try and chase the life he had lost. It had never entered in his mind that it was even an option, even with Tony’s invention, until he saw that picture in 1970. 25 years after he had been lost to the frozen depths of the Atlantic, and Peggy still kept that picture from his file on her desk. That scrawny Brooklyn boy who would never run away from a fight. Seeing that picture, and then seeing her still working, still fighting the good fight, and in a way still loving him, was the weight that tipped the balance of the scales. She had picked up his shield during all those years he was gone, and he would lift its weight from her in her twilight years.

And he rode that impetus all the way through the Battle of Earth. The realization that she could be more than just a lost memory sparked the dormant flame within his heart. It wasn’t a feeling he could put into words at the time, but now, as a breeze kicked up and rustled some of the autumn leaves, he knew. He knew that the force behind every throw of his shield, every swing of the hammer, every punch and kick and gnash of teeth during the fight with Thanos, came from him seeing her again, and the possibility of seeing her for the rest of his days. And if he had died fighting the Titan that was the biggest bully he had ever faced, then at least he would have died after seeing her one last time.

But he didn’t die, and he was going to get his wish to see her again. All he had to do was walk up the stairs, knock on the door, and when it opened, he would find her. Peggy. The one that he had loved through all time and space.

So why was it so hard to put one foot in front of the other? What was stopping him? He and the rest of the Avengers had saved the entire universe. He was deemed worthy to possess the power of Thor, or however that legend went. He had fought countless battles and ultimately won. So what was stopping him from beginning the life he had chosen?

Then the word reverberated like a thunderclap caused by that well-known Asgardian:

Worthy.

Did he do the right thing after all? He had been fighting since before he even put on the Army uniform, much less the Captain America one. He always stood up for someone else, be it another neighborhood kid, or one of the many GIs in those newsreels in the theaters. He stood up for Bucky when the world wanted him dead. He stood up for his ideals when his country forgot them. He stood up for the universe when he thought there was no one else to stand. He stood up because it was the right thing to do. That part, in his own sense of morality, was easy.

This decision, however, became harder to reconcile by the second. Sure, there was not much anyone could say against the argument that he of all people deserved to rest. Hell, Tony had encouraged him to do it. Seeing him in his rustic home, away from everyone else, had warmed Steve, especially when he watched Tony fawn over little Morgan Stark. It was a side of Tony that Steve had never thought existed or could ever exist, despite what he'd said about wanting to build Pepper a farm after Sokovia. But the whole package--spouse, child, a home that really felt like home instead of a status symbol, peace--really did sit well with Tony. And even with their history full of animosity and betrayal, Tony wished for Steve to find what he could call the “simple life” package.

But, was it right to take his advice? If Steve was truly honest with himself, it felt selfish to ditch his team to go chase this chance. It felt like he was turning his back on those who needed him, for the next fight, and the next, and the next. But there always would be a “next,” no matter where or when he was. So there he was, still rooted to the ground like so many trees painting the grass and dirt sustaining them with the colors of the changing season.

Was he worthy of this? Of the chance to finally be with her?

Was he worthy of her love?

He looked down at the flowers in his hand again, then at his simple button-down shirt and slacks. All of this overthinking made him hyper-aware of how he was dressed. The Quantum Suit managed to alter his appearance so he didn’t really have to worry about if the shirt was made of a particular fabric or if the sleeves were the right length. At least in the Suit, he didn’t have to worry about a button popping off from his chest. He made a mental note to figure out how to deal with the Quantum Suit later, because at this point he was stalling, and that was one thing he could not do all day.

He released his grip on the spot he had been standing for an age of an afternoon and started walking up the steps of the porch, his legs dragging through invisible molasses. He made no effort to be quiet on his approach; no matter what time period he was in, he knew better than to try and sneak up on a spy. He tried to once, with Natasha, just to see if it was possible…

Natasha…

Of all the Avengers, he missed her the most. She was there for him when things got really rough for him. When SHIELD fell. When Peggy had died. When he became a fugitive. When they fought Thanos the first time. She was… She used the phrase “work spouses” to describe each other at one point. Not actually in love with each other, but the closest to a life companion as he thought he would ever have, aside from Bucky. But he never got to say goodbye to her, or to thank her for everything she did for him. If she had survived, maybe this life would have been a little different. Maybe she could have helped him reach the right decision. Maybe…

No. He shook his head as that train of thought tried to distract him as well. There would be plenty of time for that later. He made his choice; he just had to follow through. Just a deep breath, and a knock, and everything will be alright. That’s how it’s supposed to work. He reached up with a closed fist, and--

“Who is it?” Peggy’s voice called from the other side of the closed front door, stopping the percussive announcement from his fist. He stifled a chuckle that caught something in his throat as her voice lingered in his mind. Of course, there was no way he would have surprised her. She had probably been watching him fuss over himself this whole time. The simple curtain that obscured the window in the door must have been her cover, if it wasn’t the windows to his left.

“Um,” he started, “a, uh, special delivery for a Ms. Carter?” Steve tried to hide his voice, but the smile that grew across his face fought against his poor attempt at flirting. All this time, he still had much to learn about courting.

“Care to leave it by the door, please?” Her accent sounded clipped, uninviting, and to an untrained ear, hostile. Steve heard what he thought were footsteps closing in on the door, and for a split second he almost entertained the thought of running. Was this a mistake? What if he was too late and she had moved on? What if, what if, what if…

No. No more running.

He rolled his shoulders and planted himself into the slats of the porch. He deserved this.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, no longer even attempting to hide his voice. “I have to hand-deliver this one.” The moment of silence after he spoke stretched to eternity. Something metallic and heavy clattered on the floor inside, followed by several hurried steps. The door flung wide open.

And there she was. Her perfect waves of brown hair gently rolled over her shoulders, catching any light that fell into them to create golden glimmering bands that begged for fingers to surf within them. Her chocolate brown eyes contained so much life within them, Steve almost felt another lifetime pass within that moment. She was wearing that same red dress from the bar when he formed the Howling Commandos, that slinky dress that made sure everyone knew those legs went all the way up. And those sweet lips that could thaw anyone from a 70-year-long sleep looked more succulent than any photograph could ever capture. Peggy Carter, the first woman to ever believe in him.

Peggy’s eyes swelled as she tried to process the picture in front of her. The swept-back hair that was way too long for military service. The sideburns that crept down further than she remembered. The jawline that could cut bricks. Shoulders and chest that pushed the button-down he was wearing to its breaking point. It looked as if someone had found the Serum and gave it to him again.

But those shining blue eyes, jewels that caught every inch of her heart and soul, that told every truth she ever needed to know, those were the real thing. It wasn’t a trick of the light as someone walked past her on the street. It couldn’t be. She tried to speak, but the sudden gasp of air she made proved she had forgotten how to breathe. “Steve?” she finally said, her voice already breaking with the tears that chased close behind.

Steve felt his lip quiver at the sound of her voice. He couldn’t believe he nearly forgotten what it sounded like, but he was almost glad he had, just so he could hear it again as if it was the first time. “Sorry I’m late,” Steve whispered.

And she flung herself into his arms. The flowers consigned to the porch, he lifted her up and spun her as he buried his face in her neck, the smell of her hair overwhelming him. Her hands squeezed his back, his shoulders, his hair, whatever they could find. He managed to carry her across the threshold inside, and as he felt her tears on his cheek, he felt his own fall.

They slowly extricated themselves from each other, just far enough so Steve could wipe away a tear from Peggy’s cheek. She smiled and leaned into his touch as she returned the favor, her hand still trying to convince herself that he was here. Her hands found the back of his neck, and she pulled him to her in a kiss that was the sweetest taste in any universe. Steve came back to her.

“You look just like I remember,” he whispered.

“You look…” she started, then her brow furrowed as she found herself surprised and concerned at what she said after that. “... Older. Not just physically… I can see it in your eyes. Why?”

“I’ll tell you later, I promise. I have something important to ask you.”

“Anything.”

“Do you have a record player?”

She tilted her head to one side. “A what?”

He gave her his best smirk. “A record player. You were supposed to teach me how to dance.”

Peggy blushed as her hand found his, and their fingers weaved together while she pulled him to the corner of the room. As they moved as one, she reached to a large black rotary telephone, picked up the receiver and instantly dropped it to the floor, her eyes never wavering from looking upon him. The hard clunk of thermo-plastic on wood caught Steve’s attention for a moment before his attention focused on her again. “Were you expecting a phone call?” he asked.

She gave a soft sigh as her eyes found the collar on his shirt very interesting. “Actually, I wasn’t expecting to be here much longer.”

He turned more towards her as his mind tried to solve the puzzle. Was it just for the night, or was she planning on moving? As his brow scrunched in confusion and worry, he had to press on. “What do you mean?”

She looked away for a moment as she decided how to phrase what her response would be. Of course, there was no way she would be able to lie to him, even after all this time. She turned to look at him again, giving her head that tilt that she always seemed to give authority when she was rebuffing anything resembling complacency. “I was preparing for a date,” she confessed. “A rather nice chap, kind of dull, but not like most men these days.”

Oh no.

Steve tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry. His palms started sweating. All the air in him had instantly deflated, and he wasn’t sure if he could get enough oxygen to restart his heart. Was he too late? Should he have jumped a few more weeks earlier, or months earlier, or just days earlier? “Did…” he started, nearly fumbling over his words. “Did I come at a bad time?”

Peggy could almost feel the fear radiating from him. She reached up and cradled his perfect jaw, wiping a tear that shook loose. “No,” she replied, just before she kissed him again. “Just like the hero you’ve always been, you showed up just in the nick of time.”

The wave of relief mixed with the spike of anxiety broke the dams of Steve’s eyes as he squeezed her tight against him. “I’m sorry,” he chanted into her ear, “I’m so sorry. I wanted to make it back in time. I wanted to come back at the right time. For a long time, I thought I couldn’t make it…” He began to sob against her, and the full weight of the years of fighting came down and off of his shoulders as he shook.

Peggy felt every bone in her chest strain against the pressure of the mountain of a hero squeezing her for dear life, and she welcomed the pain from it. She cradled his head with her arm as he spouted sentences that warmed and confused her simultaneously. She had no doubt that this was her Steve; the taste of his lips had not changed from their first and last kiss in Johann Schmidt’s car that they had appropriated half a world away.

And yet, this was not the Steve she remembered. This was a Steve that must have gone through a figurative and literal hell, a Steve that had been fighting longer than the War existed, longer than he should have been called to serve. And if her intuition was right, and it was seldom wrong, he had been fighting longer than was technically possible. She would find out who or what had put him through his ordeal, and help Steve get through this. He wouldn’t have said it in so many words, but he needed her, and no amount of physical pain would stop her from helping him.

As the lurches from his back subsided, she gently lifted his head to stare into those shining blue eyes, which had been accented by the redness from the crying, and traced a thumb across his cheek in an effort to clean up the wreckage of tears. “Steve,” she started, “you made it. You can rest now.”

The words reverberated within him as he heard the echo of Pepper’s words to Tony before he had passed away after the Battle of Earth. Peggy was right, in her own way; he could rest now, here, with her, and have the life he never thought he could have with her. But Tony didn’t. He couldn’t rest, even with his family and his simple cabin life, he couldn’t stop until it was all finished. Tony still built Pepper’s suit of armor, even before Steve had approached him about the Time Heist. Tony didn’t stop until it was all over, and while it was over for Steve, it wasn’t over for this reality.

“No,” he said. “I can’t rest now. Not yet. There’s still so much to do.”

Peggy cradled his face. “We can do it together, tomorrow. Right now, let’s have that dance, shall we?”

Steve nodded, then looked over to the small record player that sat on a table next to a bookshelf filled with records. He wasted no time in letting his fingers find the red and yellow Columbia record label he remembered from his collection back in the apartment he had down the hall from Sharon. Harry James And His Orchestra began to play from the record, and Steve pulled Peggy close to him before Kitty Kallen’s voice sang all that really needed to be said between them.

* * *

_"You could not live with your own failure.”  
“You might not want to pull on that thread.” _

_“I don’t think he’s the kind you save.”  
“I don’t know if I’m worth all this.” _

_“I don’t care. He killed my mom.”  
“It wasn’t your fault.” _

_“You know, he knew you. Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky.”  
“Who the hell is Bucky?” _

_“I’m with you to the end of the line, pal.”_

Steve gave up the idea of trying to go back to sleep and opened his eyes to the darkness of the bedroom. His brain wouldn’t shut off. Not even remembering what happened with Peggy just hours before could give his mind any solace. He rolled over to look upon the love of his life as she slept, and while the peaceful sight did warm him, it was a fleeting feeling, and that disturbed him even more. This must have been something like what Tony had felt all those years.

But Tony had felt powerless to stop Thanos because he thought there was never enough time to prepare for what would come. Steve felt there was entirely too much time to account for, and he wasn’t sure if he could fix everything. But he had to do something. He wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt if he didn’t.

Well, there was no time like the present. That was a laughable concept to him, given the circumstances. Keeping his eyes on Peggy, he slowly pulled himself out of bed. After he waited a few moments to see if she had detected his absence, he left her to her dreams as he made his way into the kitchen. If he needed to work out a plan, he needed fuel for said plan, which meant something very warm and very caffeinated.

He put the metal kettle on and reached for the closest approximation to a coffee cup in the cupboard: a simple but stylistic teacup with red and blue flowers. Did Peggy even have coffee, or was she more of a tea person? He did smile to himself with the realization that he would get to spend the rest of his life finding out tidbits of information like that about her. His exploration of the pantry led to his first discovery: Twinings English breakfast tea. He grabbed a tea bag, the teapot, and a second teacup, and set them all in place at the small dining room table. He knew he would need the space for his project.

The kettle started boiling, but he grabbed it from the stove before it made any high-pitched shrieking so it wouldn’t unsettle Peggy; at least one of them should get a good night’s sleep. He read about tea making once in a magazine, where it was best to pour boiling water into an empty teapot first, then pour out the water before actually preparing tea. The article stated that it was to protect both the life and durability of the teapot, but it also was a trick to make the teapot just warmer. The former made sense to Steve, so that was good enough for him.

After the initial slosh, he added the teabags to the teapot and poured a healthy dose of water into the vessel. He reasoned this would take at least a few minutes to steep, so he went to Peggy’s bookshelves again. It was way too early to pop down to the nearest store to buy paper, and he didn’t exactly have cash that was accurate for the time period. Oh, and there was the whole conundrum that he was the face of the USA winning the War, and just going to get the newspaper could draw attention to himself. So he had to hope that there was ample stationery around that would fill his need.

Eventually, he did find a stack of unused ledger paper that would do the job well enough, and several No. 2 pencils for good measure. As he sat down back at the table and poured himself a cup of tea, letting the aroma fill his makeshift working space, he closed his eyes and rolled the pencil between his fingers. It was a simple ritual he always did before he set out to sketch something, as a way to ground himself in the moment and clear his head. He would let all other sights and sounds dissipate into so much background noise and focus on the project. If it had not been for the War and the Serum and the call to serve, he might have had the chance to focus on his art. But it had always taken a back seat to the tasks that fell before him, and this was no exception.

So Steve opened his eyes and began to write. He decided the first thing to catalogue would be a timeline of everything that happened to him once he woke up in the 21st century. His conversation with Director Fury about trying to save the world. The Battle of New York between the Chitari led by Loki and the Avengers led by him. His encounter with the Winter Soldier, which led to his search for Bucky. The discovery of HYDRA within SHIELD, and their subsequent fall from the public eye. The creation of Ultron which was sparked by the Mind Stone. The falling out with Tony because of Bucky’s manipulation and exploitation by HYDRA. Thanos pulling off the Snap, and the Time Heist that saved and restored the universe, which also gave him the chance to see her again.

He wrote at the top of the first page in the stack “Original Timeline”  in large letters and set them aside. He wasn’t sure how long he had been writing, but he could see the faint morning light seeping through the windows, and his cup had cooled after he had finished his first cup of tea. Luckily, the teapot was still warm enough to continue serving.

“Steve?” he heard Peggy ask from the bedroom. He felt thankful he made his efforts at the table come to a stopping point, because he knew today’s conversation could be accompanied by an infinite number of questions. This question would be the easiest by far.

“I’m at the table,” he replied. He rolled the yellow pencil through his fingers again, already feeling the wood strain to hold its shape from his grip. Perhaps it would be a good idea to brush up on his typing skills.

Peggy stepped into view with the most adorable red dressing gown on, tied firmly at her waist. There was nothing ornate or remarkable about it, save for the velvet texture that only enhanced her inviting smile and sleepy eyes. This moment made this reality even more real to him, and he wanted to capture it forever.

He settled on rising from the table and capturing her instead, with a few kisses on her lips, cheek, and neck for good measure. “Good morning,” he finally said. “I take it you slept well.”

“Very well,” she answered, “especially due to present company.” She opened her eyes more, fighting the light from over the table, and noticed the tea setting, the stack of papers, and the broken pencils, the latter of which troubled her more than she cared to admit. “Have you been awake long?”

“I’m not sure. I couldn’t fall back to sleep, so I thought I’d make myself useful.”

Peggy didn’t bother hiding her concern. “Is this part of what you mentioned before? About there being so much to do?”

He nodded. “I didn’t get to bring anything with me, so this is all from memory.”

Peggy gave him a smile in her best attempt to lighten the situation. “Well, if your memory is as good as it was during the War, then I believe in you.”

Steve gave an audible exhale to her words. “You may have a change of heart,” he started as he reached for the Original Timeline stack. He looked at the title and chewed on his lip. “After you read this,” he said, finishing his train of thought, and handed her the papers.

She stared at the page as she found her way to a chair. He busied himself by pouring her a cup of tea, and watched her with a brief moment of amusement as one of her hands switched to autopilot and fixed her tea to her standard specifications: two teaspoons of sugar and just a splash of cream for color and change of temperature.

Neither of them spoke as she read his work, and he watched her read. A few birds outside chirped as they prepared for the migration south for the approaching winter season. A bicycle bell rang, presumably from a diligent schoolboy’s paper route. The only punctuation from inside came from Peggy sipping at her tea as she poured over the papers.

An eternity later, she jogged the pages into one stack and gently rested them in front of her. Her eyes darted around to spots on the table as the gears turned within her mind. She then turned her gaze upon Steve, but this wasn’t Peggy Carter, the woman in love with him, looking him over. This was Peggy Carter, Agent of the Strategic Scientific Reserve, in full investigation mode.

“So you’re ten years older than you were when you went down in the Valkyrie?” she asked, her voice in a much more authoritative tone. It caused Steve to sit more at attention than at ease, but the sterility of the newly created atmosphere felt as grounding as rolling a pencil between his fingers.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

“That alone explains your hairstyle, your slight modification in speech patterns, and the increase in strength. You would not have changed in this way if you had just traveled by foot for thousands of miles.”

He simply nodded.

“You state that HYDRA will begin to grow from within the SSR and this SHIELD organization. Because of Arnim Zola’s presence.”

“Yes, ma’am, among others that will be recruited through Operation Paperclip.”

Peggy blinked as she looked into his eyes. “I know of no operation by that name.”

Steve thought for a moment, then looked around the room, unable to find a calendar displayed on a wall anywhere in sight. “What’s today’s date?”

“26th of October,” she replied.

“Oh,” he said, and settled back into his seat. “It’s not called that until next month.”

Peggy grabbed a blank sheet of ledger paper and wrote a few notes from that before returning her attention to Steve. She didn’t want to press on with the next question, due to the nature of the material, but at this point, she could no longer deny that this wasn’t a debriefing.

She finally asked, “And you said Sergeant Barnes is alive?”

Steve slowly nodded, his gaze falling to the table. “Yes, ma’am. In captivity by HYDRA.”

Peggy leaned back in her chair and took another sip of her tea. “The thought of HYDRA influencing the world for the next 70 years does not please me at all, especially considering that the Howling Commandos and I recently liberated the last HYDRA base. But I have to be perfectly honest with you. The rest of this reads like the outline of an H. G. Wells novel.”

“I know,” he resigned, his finger tracing patterns on the table.

“If anyone else were to read this, they would deem you either a fantastic storyteller, or someone under the effects of post-concussion syndrome.” Her brow furrowed in a worrying way that he didn’t like to see, especially since he knew he was the cause of it. “The sleeplessness would be a dead giveaway. I haven’t abandoned the notion of bringing you in for a full evaluation, either.”

“I know,” he repeated.

Peggy sighed. Of all of the possibilities that would have brought Steve back to her, time travel had not been on the list. Good Samaritan fishermen, maybe. Secret HYDRA base, definite possibility. She could even have believed that he could just break through the ice with his bare hands and swim his way into the harbor. But time travel? Alternate timelines? It sounded as absurd as one of Howard Stark’s drunken nights in the R&D lab. But if there was one thing Steve never could be, it was a liar. So why would he make up a scenario like this?

Unless he didn’t. And that thought caused her more concern than any other hypothesis she could concoct. There was only one way to prove the theory true or false, wasn’t it?

“Okay then, Captain,” she started as she faced him with a determination to find out one way or another just what was occurring. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you. But I cannot do my job without exploring all options.” She waited for him to nod before she continued. “You’re here, now. And according to this, you’re also still frozen somewhere in the Arctic. The only way we can establish your credibility then is to produce results based on information you have.”

Steve knew what she was asking without asking. It may have been a significant amount of time since he had worked with her, but it already felt like it was yesterday. “You want a mission.”

His response gave her the chance to drop the authority figure in her for a moment. “You said there was so much to do,” she said. “What would be the first thing you’d want to do here and now?”

Steve gave her a smirk. “Second thing. I’ve already done the first.”

Peggy blushed as she returned his smile. “Did you really come back, leave all of what you had, to find me?”

Steve reached over to take her hand, which she gave willingly, despite the formalities they were operating under. “Well, besides wanting to make at least one timeline without the world being destroyed… yes, I did come back for you.” His eyes drifted to the table again, to stare at the papers. “... And to save Bucky.”

Peggy nodded. Her intuition was right again on that, and if she was being truthful to herself, she had hoped he would say that name. “Then there’s our mission.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. It wasn’t that he doubted her capabilities in battle; he had seen her in combat firsthand. He just didn’t expect her to agree so quickly. “‘Our’?”

“Did you really think I’d want to let you out of my sight so quickly after you came back home?”

“He’s my friend. He’s my responsibility.”

That was the side of Steve that she both loved and hated in equal measure. He was one of the bravest and most honorable men she had ever met, but he was also one of the more stubborn men as well. “Okay, Captain, if you want to take that route, I’ve been leading the Commandos on missions in your absence, and since you’re still technically MIA, that means the only way you have a chance in hell in rescuing another Commando is through me.”

Steve blinked. God, she was good, and he really missed this side of her. “Okay. It’s just…” He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to come with me.”

Peggy squeezed his hand in kind. “I know. When do we start?”

**Author's Note:**

> I am on a number of places online, but most of the time I can be found on Tumblr at @kaminaduck. Some of my greatest hits in fandom are MCU, Agents of SHIELD, DBZ Abridged, Mass Effect, Red vs Blue, and anything else that strikes my fancy. I'll also post fic updates, and when I'm streaming on Twitch!


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